Different countries, different customs

Different Countries, Different Customs


Foreword:

This is story is on the one hand based on what might have happened, and on the other what did happen in my life. When I was about 14 years old my father had an job offer which would have brought him and his family to North America. But due my declining health back then he chose to stay in Germany. In this story he did go and took his family with him. While the characters and events are based on my family and me, they don't portray them. In other words I am not Michael, and my parents are not his parents, but they are all strongly influenced by me, or how I see them. Many of the event described in this story (regarding his health, or experiences) are based on what I actually did happen in my life, though at different times and different places. The more crazier something in this story sounds, the more likely it did happen to me. One further note, English is not my mother language, and while I try my best, the story will never be as good as it might have been if written by someone else, also I am not here to become a great author, or tell an important message. I just want to fight boredom until my health allows me to return to my university.


Chapter 1

Michael turned around the last corner and his destination was now in his sight, Grant High School. This Monday was not the first day of the school year, it had started two month ago, but this was his first day nonetheless. His family had just moved from Germany to the U.S. because his father’s company had sent Michael’s dad to North America to work on a project for an American-Canadian IT-company. And since this project would most likely not be finished for at least a year or even several years, he had taken his family with him. His family had lived abroad before for the same reason, but Michael had been too young to remember much or even anything from it. His family had arrived Friday, though his father had travelled to the US before for two weeks to prepare the house they would live in, paid by his father’s company. Michael had walked the way to school at back to their new home yesterday together with his father so he would not get lost on his first day.

Like many public buildings in the state the architect seemed to have fallen in love with Roman-style columns and pillars; and the building was painted in a white that desperately tried to look like marble and failed. The place in front of the school was rather empty, just a handful of students were hanging around together or walking up and down the stairs. He was pretty early as he still needed to do a few things before he could attend his classes. He did not even know which classes he had to attend or where they were. He passed the flag pole which had the flag of the United States flying in the wind above his head. That was definitely one of the many things that where different from his home country. Flags in Germany were rather rare and often found only on government buildings, and those few who one could spot were always in company of the flag of the European Union. Flag-waving was something was pretty much “out” after the Second World War, at least in West Germany. But this was another country and displaying ones national flag was nothing “evil” Michael tried to convince himself. There was an old saying in Germany “Andere Länder, Andere Sitten” - 'different countries, different customs/traditions'.

He did not pay much attention to the other students even though some threw him a curious look, as he was busy preparing himself mentally for all the stuff he had to do. Register himself, get his schedule, find his classes, and don’t completely screw up on his first day... Michael was pretty sure he would fail the last one. There were simply too many possibilities today for him to do something wrong or embarrassing, and since he doubted he could avoid it; he simply tried to get through with it the best way he could and not draw too much attention to himself. He hoped that at least from the way he looked and dressed himself that it would work He was pretty average, not very big, nor small. He was neither fat nor did he look like he had not eaten in weeks. His hair was blond and cut rather short, and all his clothes were completely black without anything on them, not even brand names. He disliked bright clothes and found dark clothes rather handy, considering some of the situations he had found himself in the past.

Michael entered the big open door of the school and stopped for a few meters so he could orientate himself. He found a sign which seemed to show the way to the offices of the school administration and turned left to follow it. He now walked a down a long hallway, with several rooms to each side. His destination seemed to be still much further inside the school as he could not see any others signs yet. As he had almost reached the end of this hallway, leading to a staircase leading to another level, he heard a female voice shouting something from inside one of the classrooms. He could not understand what she said and pretty much ignored it until he heard her a second time, and this time he did hear her words. He froze for a second, and then turned to the door where the sound was coming from and stormed into the room...


A few minutes later he was sitting in the principals office, trying to stop the blood from his nose with handkerchief, and a bit confused about what just had happened. The principal was sitting behind his surprisingly small desk. He seemed in his early 50s and a bit overweight, his head was almost completely bald and he was wearing a white shirt with a blue tie. To Michael’s surprise his face seemed rather friendly for the head of a high school, especially considering the circumstances of this meeting. Next to Michael were another two students sitting on chairs. One boy and one girl; both appeared to be about the same age as Michael and looked pretty much similar. Each of them had blond hair and they were about the same size, which was at least 5cm bigger than Michaels 155cm.

“Students” started the principal, Michael had not yet found out his name and he could not remember if he had seen any signs on the door which could have told him the name, “Please explain to me what just happened any why you are here in my bureau.” The boy answered first, Michael did not his name either.

“I don't really know. I was with Claire” that must be the girl’s name, Michael thought. “In the classroom talking when suddenly this guy,” he pointed to Michael, “Stormed in and jumped between me and pushed me away. I then hit him. More as a reflex since I did not really know what was going. And I still don't know what’s going on. Maybe you should ask him” the boy said, referring to Michael.

“Thank you John” answered the principal. Another name, John. I am making some progress...now I have to survive this quagmire. Michael continued to try to piece everything together. “And that's exactly what I will do now, but first I have another question” He looked now directly at Michael. “Well, who are you? I do not think that I have seen you at my school before.” The Principal asked him.

Michael took a deep breath before he started to answer,

“I am Michael...” he stopped when he saw that everyone looked at him with a raised eyebrow. He had pronounced his name the German way, which must have sounded rather weird in their ear. “Michael” he repeated, this time with the English pronunciation, “Michael Schiller, I was supposed to enroll in this school today...” before he could continue he was interrupted

“Ah yes, I met your father two weeks ago. He came here to prepare the paperwork.” The principal said, “But that still does not explain what happened...” Michael understood this as the clue to continue.

“I was on my way here to the office, when I passed a door and heard a female voice shouting...” he paused for a short moment, trying to build up what he was going to say next in his mind. His English was far from perfect and he had to choose his words wisely. He tried to remember the girl’s name he had just heard moments before. Unfortunately remembering names was one thing he was terrible at. C, it started with a C. Claudia? No, is that even an American name? Christine...Nope..

“I heard ..Clara..” he stopped here for a second, but as nobody reacted or corrected him he believed that he got the right name “shouting that she was attacked..”

“No I didn't!” she interrupted him loudly “Nobody attacked me, I would surely remember that.” Claire said.

“But I heard you!” I countered. “You shouted that someone was hitting on you!”

“..And?” she asked confused. “John was just teasing me a bit; we always make fun of each other.”

“By beating you??” I asked, sounded even more confused than ever.

”Beating?!” this time it was John who shouted out. “Who said anything about beating her? I did nothing like that!”

“Please calm down everyone!” said the principal in a voice which sounded soft, but left no doubt that this had not been a request. “Claire” he continued “Did you say or shout anything in the room before Michael came in” he asked her.

“Uhm yes. John and I were making a few jokes, including some where he act like he would ask me out in the weirdest way possible to annoy me, but he didn’t attack me. We are friends, why should he do that? I am not the one who looked like he got beaten up.” she finished referring to Michael’s still bleeding nose.

“Claire, just tell us what you exactly said before Michael entered the classroom.” the principal asked her again.

“Uh, something like 'Stop hitting on me'”. She stammered.

“Michael,” he now looked at the bleeding teenager was that what you heard from outside?”

“Yes!” was the reply following the nodding which he stopped as soon as he remembered that the handkerchief was still holding back the blood and he did not want to spread it everywhere. “Well son,” the principal said.

Did he just call me his son?? I am pretty sure I know my father...I have his nose...his whole big freaking nose Michael thought, confused again.

“You do know that there is a difference between 'hitting someone' and hitting ON someone?” Michael was asked, but the only thing he could think of as an answer was.

“Uh...” apparently he did not know.